


The Bare Truth

by Serena_A



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Bisexual Identity Crisis, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Sexual Identity, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28527789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serena_A/pseuds/Serena_A
Summary: In which seeing Merlin shirtless for the first time triggers Arthur’s bisexual identity crisis
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 280
Collections: The Melee Challenge, Truth one-shots





	The Bare Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Round 1 (January 3-9, 2021) of the [Merlin Fic Server](https://discord.gg/smJtaUcdP8) [Melee Challenge](https://merlin-fic-server.tumblr.com/post/639147482929119232/happy-new-year-from-merlin-fic-server-beginning) with prompt #5: “Chest” 
> 
> Thanks to lordvoldermortsnipple for the title suggestion!

“A crown? Really, Arthur?”

“What? I _am_ named after a legendary king.” 

“It’s a little over the top.”

Arthur appraised himself in the mirror of the dressing room stall and adjusted the gold crown that was pressing his blonde fringe against his forehead. It wasn’t real gold, but it was made of some kind of metal and was surprisingly heavy for a costume piece. He wore chainmail over a hauberk and pauldrons of brown leather, an ensemble that made his chest and shoulders look even broader than usual. As a finishing touch, he’d donned a flowing red cape, which he tossed back with a flourish.

He caught Merlin’s eye in the reflection and grinned. “You have to admit, I look the part.”

Merlin was unimpressed. “If by ‘part’ you mean ‘royal prat’, sure. Nailed it.”

“If you’re going to drag me around the Fayre to talk my ear off about historical accuracy and medieval weapons, _Mer_ lin, you could at least humor me.”

“I humor you plenty. Your massive ego doesn’t need any further stroking,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes. “And anyway, you _like_ the medieval weapons.”

It was true. When Arthur first met Merlin he thought his friend’s medieval obsession was a bit nerdy and weird, but that was before he learned you could actually train to fight the way knights did, with longswords and maces and polearms and everything. He wondered if the Historical European Martial Arts Society would let him borrow a sword to go with his costume.

Arthur gestured to the bundle of clothing in Merlin’s arms. “Have you finally picked something out?” Merlin had been shuffling through the racks of the costume shop for what felt like forever.

“It’s hard to find anything that fits,” Merlin complained. “Everything’s either too large or too short.” 

Merlin was tall, with about an inch over Arthur’s six feet, and had a lithe frame, compared to Arthur’s rugby player build. 

“You’ve got a waif-like figure girls would kill for.” Arthur held up a purple sequined gown abandoned by a previous dressing room occupant. “I bet you’d look great in this.” 

“I didn’t realize you were trying on dresses in there too,” Merlin replied, an impish smile quirking at the corner of his lips. “You may be named after a king, but apparently you’re a queen.”

“You can’t talk to me like that. I could have you executed for treason.”

“But then what would you do without your Court Sorcerer?”

Arthur cocked an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, is that what you are?” 

“You’re not the only one named after a legendary figure.”

“Don’t the legends say Merlin turns into a tree? You could go to the Fayre as a tall, gangly tree.”

Merlin muttered something under his breath that sounded like “dollop head” and stormed past Arthur into the adjacent stall. Arthur smirked at the force with which Merlin drew the curtain shut.

Arthur had changed back into his own clothes and was about to head to the counter with his costume selection when a series of thuds followed by a muffled cry came from Merlin’s stall. 

“...You ok in there, mate?” 

_Blagh blagh blagh!_

Arthur peered behind the curtain to find Merlin thrashing around in the tiny stall, his face and arms trapped in a blue tunic tangled up in a red scarf, which had gotten stuck around his head.

Arthur’s sudden snort of amusement was met with muffled indignation.

“HMMMMPFFF!”

He stepped in to rescue his friend from his clothing. “Merlin—will you—stop struggling!” Arthur scolded as he gripped the edge of the tunic and tried to pull it off. The stall was cramped and Arthur didn’t have enough room or leverage. “I can’t reach that far up, you’re gonna have to—”

Merlin dropped to his knees and wriggled his entangled arms at Arthur, as if urging him to be quick about it. Merlin looked so ridiculous that Arthur couldn’t contain his laughter, but he managed to free Merlin from the tunic.

Then Arthur looked down, and the mirth died on his lips.

_Fuck._

The sudden realization stunned him into silence: Merlin was _hot_. Why hadn’t he ever noticed before? 

...Because he wasn’t in the habit of noticing when blokes are hot?

…Was he?

The shapeless clothes Merlin normally wore had hidden the fact that he wasn’t actually skinny. Merlin was surprisingly _fit_ , whipcord lean, and every sculpted muscle on his bare torso stood out in stark relief under the awful fluorescent lighting of the dressing room.

The trousers Merlin had paired with the tunic rode low on his hips, drawing Arthur’s eyes from Merlin’s chest to the deep v-cut of his lower abs and the downward trail of springy dark hair on his stomach. A surprising jolt of heat shot up Arthur’s spine.

Unnerved by his traitorous body’s reaction, Arthur dragged his eyes back up and forced himself to look at his friend’s face, for all the good _that_ did him. Merlin’s dark, wavy locks were disheveled, as if he’d just rolled out of bed. His cheeks were flushed from the exertion, he was breathless and panting slightly, and he was looking up at Arthur through thick, dark eyelashes with those gorgeous jewel-blue eyes. 

Arthur’s cock twitched as Merlin held his gaze and ran his tongue over his stupidly plush lips. _Fuck_. Suddenly he was imagining Merlin like this— _on his knees_ —in a completely different scenario. A scenario he was way too sober to be entertaining right now, except he was _entertaining it_ …

His mind’s downward slide into the gutter was interrupted by the shop attendant loudly clearing her throat from the other side of the curtain, asking them to please vacate the stall, and something about how this was a family-friendly establishment.

Arthur’s eyes widened in horror. “We weren’t— It’s not what you—”

Merlin’s obscenely well-defined shoulders shook with silent laughter. 

Arthur glowered and tossed Merlin’s shirt at him with much more force than necessary. “Get dressed and let’s get out of here!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked this story, it continues in [_Truth Be Told_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28941318). (This and the succeeding [one-shots](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Truth_one_shots) are bits of a fic I may or may not finish writing.)


End file.
